


Experimental

by Skylar_Matthews



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, kink meme fill, more to come - Freeform, slavery culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-01-20 17:32:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1519235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylar_Matthews/pseuds/Skylar_Matthews
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=14238976#t14238976</p><p>Life only exists through kindling. Bots onlined courtesy of Vector Sigma are merely drones because these 'Sigma Sparked' bots don't actually have sparks. Or do they?</p><p>This'll be long because I can't do short stories and I get caught up in simple stuff like the ordering process in chapter 1. Also I think the OC stole the show even though she was only supposed to have a small part. Oops...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pjlover666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjlover666/gifts).



> My thanks go out to BlackAndTanDogs and Dellessa for reminding me I was working on this (by posting their own version which you should totally go check out too) and pjlover666 for helping with direction and massively enthusiastic feedback when I fed her sneak-peek snippets.

A black and white mech stood before an unassuming and seemingly innocent building. It was unmarked, like all the rest in the neighborhood, but to him it had an ominous loom. There was only one reason a bot visited this place and though he'd been considering it for a few vorns now, even almost stopped by a couple of times, that didn't make this decision any easier on him.

Owning a SigmaMech was rather commonplace, so much so that even several companies commissioned batches when they needed extra bodies for manual labor, but it was in the private sector where the best money was made. At least one third of all homes had one and the richer households often had several. Uses ranged from housework to sparkling care to the ever popular pleasurebot models. In fact, half the personal models sold were primarily for pleasure, with nearly all carrying some form of interfacing protocols. They were quite popular among single bots.

That was the problem though; owning a pleasurebot suggested one was either lazy or hated real company. Or at least that was a strong enough belief that profilers could use it to help create a criminal profile (less the act of owning an artificial mech and more the mental state behind having such an item.) And it was just that sort of stigma he wanted to avoid.

Unfortunately, a true Cybertronian's frame required the occasional burn off of excess energy. While being their core fuel, even the mildest of Energon couldn't be completely absorbed into the frame and the charge would linger, just waiting to build enough to fry circuitry. Interfacing had been found to be the most effective method of dispelling this energy, but when one didn't have a regular partner there were other options. Options that were, however, very limited and too quickly ran out when one didn't have a partner for a while. And he hadn't had a partner in a very long while. Even though his frame was slightly more optimized to handle (not quite need) extra energy, even he had limits and a medic had recently warned that if he didn't do something soon then he would most certainly burn out some, probably vital, component. 

Hence why he was standing outside the Sigma 'shop', working up the will to enter. He hadn't really any choice though, having exhausted all options except a pleasurehouse (and really that was no option at all for an Enforcer.) And so, he ex-vented once more deeply, set his sensor wings at a neutral level and tilt, and then entered.

The interior was just as simplistic as the exterior. Essentially a standard waiting room, there was a receptionist desk and closed door across the room and various seating scattered about, presently all empty. The receptionist was a pink femme with light green accents and was speaking with another femme, this one colored a white-silver with gold trim and a splash of lilac for color on her helm and hip plating. Both looked up as he entered but it was the latter who moved and spoke first.

"Welcome to-oooo, a Praxian. We don't see many of you often. Freeform will be so jealous."

"Lucky you," the femme behind the desk commented softly. "You think you can handle this on your own?"

"I got it," the silver one replied back with a smile and the receptionist just shook her helm.

Uninterested in the display as anything more than a lack of professionalism, the black and white tried to draw their attention back to him. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, oops sorry." It was the silver femme who spoke again and she at least had the decency to look ashamed. "Let me start again. Hello there, I'm Highlight and I'll be your aide for this visit. Before we begin, we'll need your full designation glyph." She made a vague gesture in the direction of the receptionist's corner of the room. "If you'll just sign the form for Sharpline here."

By the time the mech had crossed the room to the desk, the femme behind it had a datapad and stylus ready for him. As he drew the exceptionally complex glyph, Highlight peeked not quite over his shoulder. "Enforcer department 11? I didn't know there was anyone there that hadn't visited us before."

Sharpline leveled a glare at the other femme that was quickly replaced with a neutral smile as the mech finished. She spoke as she reclaimed the datapad, her tone at the end inflected in questioning. "Thank you, officer..."

"Prowl," the mech answered and she gave a nod.

"I'll just file this then and we should have your results shortly. If you'll just follow your aide now, she'll guide you through the rest of the procedure." Prowl nodded and turned but Sharpline touched his arm to draw his attention again. "While officially we're all authorized for sales, everyone does has specialties. Technically Highlight is a programmer and can be a bit much for most to handle so if you feel you need a different guide at any point please do speak with any other worker you see in back. Or better yet here's my frequency. Just message me and I'll send someone in to replace her for you, alright?"

Prowl looked over at Highlight, standing beside the door before back at Sharpline. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

Sharpline nodded again and then the mech may as well have not existed anymore. Which left Prowl with nothing to do except move towards the other femme.

"So will this be personal or professional?"

"There's a difference in the procedure?" the officer asked.

"Oh yes. Professional orders are often in bulk, causing a delay for delivery, and the coding needs are generally basic. Mostly they're the faster appointments though. Personal orders tend to offer more choices because individuals find they have much more need for one of our mecha than they realized at first or have conflicting desires."

"I see."

Highlight was silent a moment, opening the door before she questioned again. "So what are you here for?"

A moment's hesitation before he answered. "Personal."

"Oh good. Professional orders can be so dull." Highlight nodded to herself before stepping through the doorway, holding it open for the officer still. The space beyond was a t-intersect hallway lined with doors on either side. "Come along then."

Prowl followed after her, down the hall, as the femme continued talking. "Were you looking to finalize a purchase today or will this be a delivery? I should warn you that we probably don't have any models in your frame type at the moment."

"That's fine. I wasn't specifically looking for one anyway."

"Not a fan of your own kind or just don't like to reciprocate?"

"What?" Prowl asked, mildly startled at her guesses. "No, nothing like that. I simply hadn't given much thought to appearance yet."

"Not picky or are you anticipating frequent rebuilds? The masochism programming is way better than anything the civilians have cooked up and can be shut off or left out entirely if you so choose."

Highlight had to stop and turn around when she realized she was no longer being followed. The Enforcer was standing several steps away and had a stern look affixed to his faceplates.

"I don't appreciate your insinuations or attempts at character assassination."

"You don't have to be ashamed of anything here," Highlight explained with a shrug as she ushered the officer to continue moving again. "We just want to serve our clients the best we can and to do that we need to know everything. Trust me when I tell you there's probably nothing you can come up with that we haven't heard before. Most of the darkest kinks are common to Enforcers, much like the science community often requests the weirdest ones."

Prowl considered this for a moment before moving again. Her casual attitude on the whole affair had him confused; he didn't know whether he trusted her more for the open acceptance or if it was a careful ruse. It didn't really matter in any case and he was too far along to just walk out now, even if this was turning into a bigger event than he'd anticipated.

"Perhaps such is commonplace, but please do refrain from making any guesses about my personal life."

"Sure, but then I gotta ask even more questions." She waited for the other to nod acceptance of this before continuing their path.

They reached the end of the hallway soon after and she led them to the right. A short ways down the hall she stopped them beside a door on the right and after a few moments it opened. Inside was a simple desk with two chairs on the near side and one on the far side. Highlight waved Prowl in before entering herself, the door sliding shut behind her as she made her way to the single seat. Upon sitting she began rummaging through a drawer, finally coming up with a datapad and stylus before focusing on Prowl again.

"Since you're not set on physical features yet I figure we can work on the other aspects; personality, 'facing habits, special features... That sort of thing. Often these things change frame requirements anyway so I like starting here best anyway."

Prowl had no response for that so simply waited for her to continue, which the femme did.

"So, what are you looking for? Not all desires fit together well and some create weird programming gaps but I'll do the best I can to get you what you're here for."

Hesitating, the officer finally answered with, "I... don't know. I hadn't anticipated there would be so much personalization."

"Well, the customization is half the appeal for most buyers," Highlight replied casually. "But since that's not your aim how 'bout you tell me about yourself and what brought you here and I'll suggest what I think fits best as a starting point and then we work from there?"

"That's acceptable." Prowl nodded once with the words before stopping to consider his next words. "I live and work here in Iacon as an Enforcer. Due to the high profile nature of many of the cases I work on it's always been too much of a risk to maintain any sort of relationship with a non-officer. Besides that, my frame type is apparently "exotic" here and the the only bots who have ever acted interested only wanted to get me in their berth for a night or two for the novelty."

"And outside of work? What sort of things do you do in your free time?"

"I don't have much free time, especially while following leads. Some orns I'm lucky to even make it home to refuel and recharge."

"Huh," Highlight commented. "Sounds like you're looking as much for a friend as a frag buddy."

"I don't appreciate being mocked." The simple statement had the officer all but bristled. "My job doesn't exactly lend itself to safe friendships."

"Oh I'm not mocking you. I'm thrilled actually because it means I can mention a new prototype model." Her excitement was visible in the femme's suddenly more animated motions. "It's definitely on the higher end of price scale but your pay point can afford it easily enough."

"I'll admit you have me curious now."

"They're called CompanionBots and are programmed with the most realistic coding to date. Ideal for nobility looking for just some pretty little thing for their fancy parties and are programmable with all sorts of preloaded knowledge and data across any number of subjects for great small talk."

"And how is that different from a 'normal' model?"

"Well our standard models can only handle the most basic of instruction sets while this version mimics true bots to a much closer degree. They can even initiate and sustain conversations all on their own without outside guidance. Most of the fine motor controls are upgraded as well and nearly as fine tuned as a medic would handle a normal mech or femme's system."

"That does seem well worth the cost."

"Oh definitely. And equip one with the highest grade processor available and intuitive learning code and in theory it should be able to pick up nearly anything if there's space in the memory core."

"In theory?" Prowl asked, definitely curious about this wording.

"Well yeah, they're still in testing stages. Gotta fine-tune and streamline the coding still and make sure there's no bugs in the system. As such, we'll need feedback and have to run occasional tests if you do pick one of these models."

"And if something is wrong?"

"Well all models have an optional up to hundred vorn full service warranty. If any damage comes to your mecha, bring it in and we'll do repairs for a minor fee. If it's not repairable we'll exchange or refund your purchase."

"And that's for all models?" Highlight nodded in response to the question and Prowl moved onto his next. "Are there any special rules for the high end model?"

"Nothing too special. We need to know as soon as possible afterwards if there's any malfunctions and as much information as you have leading up to the malfunction for research and repair purposes." As she spoke, Highlight was also messing with something on her datapad. "But otherwise it's just an occasional mandatory visit to examine your mecha and make sure it's running right, make the occasional upgrade and maybe fix minor bugs.

"I take it you're interested in that model then?" The Enforcer nodded and Highlight rather beamed as she continued after making a mark on the datapad. "That's great! One step down. Now onto something easy; interfacing habits."

Prowl visibly startled. The topic shift was unexpected and abrupt enough to stall his processor. "Excuse me?"

"Private models are nearly always ordered with the ability to engage in interfacing and it seemed like we had essentially acknowledged that was part of your being here..." Highlight offered a slight shrug. "It's an easy topic for most customers but we can come back later if you prefer."

"No," Prowl responded slowly, his sensor panels twitching occasionally. "It's just... Due to my job, I haven't really... actually had a partner in a long time."

"So you don't know what you like then?" The officer remained silent but the femme was undeterred. Her stylus moved across the datapad, checking boxes and making notes as she spoke. "So a full system then and for related traits I would suggest adaptable and adventurously inclined. Preexisting knowledge of your frame type is highly advisable. Any arguments so far?"

"None."

"Good. Now while we're still on the topic, what are your dimensions?"

When the shock wore off and he could speak again, Prowl only barely kept the bite out of his tone. "You certainly seem to delight in startling me."

"It is rare we get any guests with your sort of mindset about this stuff but it really is all in the job," Highlight tried to explain. "Everything about our mecha is personalized to the best extent we can manage so we need all the information we can get."

"I see..."

Highlight sat in silence waiting until receiving her answer, which she then marked down with a simple hum of acknowledgement. It certainly wouldn't do to fluster this mech too much. Thankfully that was the end of that section of questioning and she moved them along into the next easily.

For his part, the officer answered easily enough to the questions he had considered but too often there were inquiries he hadn't anticipated and Highlight found herself making more suggestions than on any five appointments together. And even more surprisingly, this mech agreed with a majority of them! In the end they'd designed an outgoing, fun-loving and potentially highly intelligent personality. Quite the opposite of the Enforcer on most points but also complimentary.

Smiling, Highlight stood and indicated Prowl should too. "Alright, this part's done. Now to pick out a suitable frame while all the coding gets pulled together."

Prowl nodded once and followed after the femme as she exited the room. They went right once more and at the end of the hall it only turned left. They followed and down the next corridor Highlight stopped them at the sole door on the left. After a moment the door slid open for them. As they entered, Highlight placed her datapad in a small chamber within the wall then pushed a button that sealed it off.

She then continued their progress forward and Prowl took the time to study the room. It was rather like one of those grand showcases that sprang up occasionally whenever a company decided to show off a flashy new altmode model, complete with both living and nonliving displays. Here though, the frames were in root mode and various stages of complete. Some large, some small, some bulky and others lithe, and a scattering of nearly all frame types, including a flier body that was colored in optic-blinding yellows. There were even tables along the side walls where partial frames lay and were actively being worked on by bots in all sorts of pastel colors. In some ways it was a workshop rather than a showroom.

As they passed, his attention was drawn by a sizable frame, colored dark but with no actual color to it yet. Or more aptly, his attention was drawn by the strange additional appendages being affixed to a point within the mech's chestplating, which itself seemed to fold out forward in a way Prowl had never seen before.

"Commission for a deep space exploration team," Hightlight shared when she realized her customer had stopped. "Recorder class. Those cables are for data transfer though rumor has it the dexterity makes them useful for other purposes too." She laughed at the officer's expression before offering a simple one word explanation. "Scientists."

Prowl turned away without her prompting this time and trailed after the femme as she brought them one end of the room. The frames here were lighter than many others but all roughly in the same size class as his own and the colors ran from silvers to blues to blacks reds, all dull because the frames were yet inactive.

"Based on the mentals and other factors, I'd suggest one of these frames," Highlight offered after she'd allowed him to glance over the section.

"Other factors?" Prowl immediately questioned.

"We've never had an Enforcer come through who didn't like speed," she explained with a very slight shrug. "These models come preloaded with the fastest altmodes we offer. All completely street legal of course, though if one wanted to occasionally push past the limits and throttle their engine a bit higher where safe to do so...

"There really shouldn't be any problems," Highlight continued as though she hadn't hinted at street racing at all. "These frames are built with material that's nearly racer grade. A certain necessity to suit the programming you've chosen."

Prowl didn't respond, instead turning his attention to fully examining the frames before them. They were all sleek and probably gorgeous but there was a lifelessness about them that made it hard for him to imagine any of them as a living being.

In the end he'd resorted to asking Highlight's advice once more and together they'd picked a frame that was very close to his own proportionally, shaded in tones that she guessed would turn into blues when the mecha onlined. After that it was a couple groons for Highlight to double check the coding for gaps before finalizing it while the technicians worked to prepare the frame for activation.

Highlight had led them through the only other door in the workroom, on the far side from the entry door, and it was there that the technicians brought the finished frame just a few kliks before the femme finished her read over of the coding. Prowl watched as they placed the frame upon a berth beside the wall covered in computer terminal screens and keypads. It was to one of these that Highlight walked up to as the door shut behind the technicians as they left.

The silver femme connected her datapad to a cable that Prowl was sure hadn't been exposed previously and then pressed a couple more buttons which brought a solid dome down from the ceiling to cover the berth and frame upon it. Turning towards the officer, she spoke again, "I almost forgot. Did you have a name you wanted to use?"

Prowl stared for a klik before replying. "I wasn't aware I needed to provide one."

"Don't worry, it's just a technicality," she assured him. "They do sometimes online with one and if not then it's just a forced reboot to insert one."

The Enforcer nodded as he had no better way to respond. Another couple buttons and then she stepped back. "Here goes."

They both watched as the terminals all lit up before Highlight looked to him again. "Some times there's an imprinting, we still don't know why to predict it, so I'll let you interact first. Start simple and just ask for a name. If anything happens I'm right here to fix it. Oh, and if you decide you don't like the colors after onlining just say so and we'll do a free repaint before you leave."

Prowl nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to watch and wait. The lighting jumped to include the domed berth as well and instinctively he knew the process was nearly complete. And a good thing too because something about the process had his sensor panels twitching erratically. Perhaps just too much energy in the atmosphere he concluded because as soon as the lights all suddenly shut off the twitching faded too.

It was in that short period of silent waiting that a horrible thought crossed Prowl's mind and he sent a small prayer to Primus that this mech who didn't even really exist yet wouldn't also find him as uninteresting and worthless as the rest of society did.

Meanwhile, beside him, Highlight was practically quivering with excitement herself. She'd never seen a client through to the onlining process and she couldn't wait to see the finished result. And they didn't have long to wait.

The domed cover lifted away on its own and revealed the now onlined form. Prowl stepped forward even before Highlight's encouraging. The frame had become a platinum blue with polished silver and strips of cobalt blue for accenting. As he looked down, the frame's optics, white with a double 's' in black in the center, onlined and he was met by an inquisitive gaze. "Who are you?"

Mildly surprised, both at the question and the empty tone, Prowl drew back to allow the other to sit up, which he did, and answered. "My designation is Prowl. Do you have one as well?"

The SigmaMech paused in his scan of the room, expression going even more blank, and Prowl had begun to worry something went wrong when the answer came.

"Jazz."


	2. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz's onlining and first day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I am mildly surprised no one commented on Soundwave's existence in the previous chapter...)

Onlining for the first time was unique. It was like waking up without ever going to sleep and that wasn't even the oddest part.

Suddenly there was so much more. _He_ was so much more than before.

He was just beginning to feel out the new pieces of his existence -his frame- another part -processor- informed him, offering with it a veritable flood of descriptors -words- and their meanings to explain his new existence, his life.

Something happened -a sound- and more new parts -sensors- he hadn't known could exist activated to offer him more information. Light sensors told him that he was no longer in the dark as the sound he'd felt -heard- outside his frame somewhere -up, above- had stopped.

Somewhere in his processor new protocols lined up, offering to 'online optics'. He was deciding what that meant when an outside source of energy flowed over him. There was a moment of mental recoil in shock even as he accepted the protocol and let his optics online.

There was something -a face, helm, bot- directly above and extremely close to him with strange glowing things -optics- aimed at him. More new lines of code and he was doing something, producing sounds -speaking- through yet another part -mouth- he was still learning existed.

"Who are you?"

The question was directed to the other above him and immediately other coding, different coding, chastised him for speaking without invitation. He didn't understand that though and so ignored it for now. The other bot had moved away, that energy field moving away too and he found himself moving -sitting up- to try and follow. Balance stabilizers sent warnings not to move more and his frame stopped but that was ok because the other mech had stopped too and was speaking to him now. He had to focus to understand the words.

The other gave something called a designation, his processor finding and giving him the understanding of what that meant even as the other mech -Prowl- his processor reminded him, asked for one in return. Did he have a designation?

That prompted a quick search, then when that turned up nothing his processor ran an advanced search in his memory banks, mostly blank yet. Still no results. In desperation his processor turned the question over to him -his core, essence, spark- where it waited to find an answer that might not exist until finally, _finally_ the search yielded a result.

"Jazz."

The other bot -mech- sagged just a tiny bit and something -relief- washed through his field momentarily before snapping away again when a new sound -new voice- sounded.

"See?" The higher pitched voice said as another bot came into his view. This one was built thinner and lighter with a similar but shinier look -finish, paint job- to... -her, femme- his processor supplied the word again. "I told you there was probably nothing to worry about. And the colors turned out even nicer than I guessed they might. Would be a shame to change 'um but the free offer's still there."

Colors? Jazz wondered. A glance down at his own frame showed he was indeed painted differently than either of them but that didn't hold his attention long as the mech -Prowl- he was reminded once more, spoke again.

"That's quite alright, this is more than adequate."

A small burst of something -pleasure, relief, happiness- washed through him at the words and drew his focus back to Prowl. Now that the mech was turned away from him, Jazz noticed the strange appendages protruding from his back and moving ever so slightly as he spoke with the femme. Even as he wondered what the use of such things could be, his processor pulled up various terms for the sensor panels as well as a list of memory core pathways to locate more information. With nothing better to do while the pair of bots conversed, he began to poke at some of the data.

Jazz had just reached a point comparing Praxian 'wing speak' to Vosian (and who would have thought there were so many different frames and cultures!) when his attention was drawn back outwards. The other two had both moved nearer him again and seemed to be waiting expectantly. But for what, he had no idea.

"Does it usually take this long?" Prowl asked softly.

"Yes and no," the femme responded. "New builds require a few orns for the programming to settle properly so there are delays in the beginning but after everything's in place there shouldn't be any. If you're concerned though I can jack in and make sure it's all clear?"

At first confused by the strange words -slang-, a quick search to find their meaning had Jazz both confused and worried. One didn't just link into another's system without their permission unless one was a medic, and this femme didn't have the right identifiers. He wanted to speak and say he was fine and not to do that, but coding refused to allow it. In his attempt to figure out something he instinctively tripped a short memory replay of being told to stand.

Was that really all they wanted? Deciding to try, he made to stand and when that annoying bit of coding didn't argue he continued the motion until he was off the terminal berth. Prowl's wings flicked ever so slightly in a way Jazz had just learned was grateful but the mech didn't react otherwise. The femme however...

"See? Just takes some time at first." Prowl regarded her comment with a single nod and she went on. "Now, the last thing before you leave is to authorize payment so I’ll have you sign here again.” She held out an object -datapad- to the mech and he scribbled on it before returning it to her and she traded it for another one. “And then this is yours. Information and answers to common questions.”

The second datapad vanished seemingly into thin air -subspace- after Prowl scanned the first page and the femme clapped. “Great. Now that everything’s all settled we’ll head outside and I can activate the alt-mode protocols. Unless you’d rather do so yourself or not at all? The activation pathway is marked in your ‘pad.”

‘Alt-mode?’ Jazz wondered. Unfortunately his memory bank held only a ‘wait-and-see’ glyph. 

“I live a considerable distance away so I’ll allow you to do so. Such course of action is also least likely to cause unforeseen problems.”

“Alright then. Let’s go.”

As the femme strode off, Jazz glanced to Prowl who he found was watching him. “Come along then.”

Coding buzzed at him when he didn’t follow quickly enough but was gone before he could locate the source. It didn’t matter much though because he was moving and soon they were outside and there was suddenly so much more to see. He might have stared all orn but Prowl was speaking again and it drew his attention even though the words weren’t directed at him.

“Is driving standard knowledge or is there a practice facility on site?”

“Standard knowledge,” the femme repeated in answer. “All models come with the ability to upgrade the alt-mode at any time too. Standard frame change rules do apply though.” Prowl nodded. “Now with your permission I’ll activate the alt-mode coding?”

Another nod and the femme was moving towards him. Jazz didn’t know what to do or what was going to happen but his frame stayed still because of coding orders. Prowl had accepted so it was fine.

Wait, what?

Before he could track down the source of that thought something happened and a part of his frame shifted subtly and then there was a new presence around his processor. Jazz tried to brace himself for anything but the other presence didn’t even seem to notice him as it went about poking at lines of code dedicated to his frame. It was an odd sensation; feeling another move about as if they were on the other side of a wall but still being there with them. And then it was gone and a couple kliks later his frame was shifting -transforming- and when the change stopped he was suddenly aware of parts he hadn’t known even held a function. Before he could think to move a whole new set of instructions appeared in his processor and he decided to read through while nothing important was happening.

He had gotten through all the necessities when his attention was drawn outward again but he wasn’t sure by what. Prowl was gone but the femme remained and now there was something new besides her. A bot in alt-mode, the thought came to his processor, and though the colors were a bit lacking it was a very appealing build. Sturdy with hints of speed and an undertone of power. Very nice…

The other vehicle moved towards him and he was startled when it spoke, both because it had and because he knew that voice. “Follow me and obey the rules of the road.”

Without waiting for a reply, Prowl drove off and Jazz only hesitated a moment in following. What else was he to do though? The other mech seemed a better chance than staying back with the femme and that annoying coding agreed with following Prowl so he did.

~

The drive had seemed long, not that he really had any frame of reference but it had been more than half of his total time online and that was more than long enough for him, but eventually they arrived at a tall building in a moderate part of town. At least, it was far nicer than the worst areas they had driven past yet not as impressive as the really decorated sections of the city. Prowl led them into an almost underground driveway at the base of the building where they then stopped and transformed; Jazz following after Prowl’s lead.

From there the Praxian lead them into a smaller room where they waited until the door slid shut behind them. There was noise and then movement and Jazz worried for a klik before the realization came that it was an elevator.

When it stopped, they exited and Prowl headed down the hallway to a door that seemed no different than any of the others to Jazz. He was unsurprised when it opened for them though and promptly followed Prowl inside.

The space was simple and very clean and had only a few more objects than the room he’d awoken in. He let the new words wash over him as he looked around the room. There was a wide couch almost in the center of the room, faced towards a large vid-screen (which was actually only moderately sized he realized) and a low set table sat in front of the couch. Along one wall there was a shelving unit with numerous datapads arranged precisely within it. Three other doors led off to other areas but were all shut.

“Here.”

Prowl’s voice drew his attention as he was starting to wonder what might be beyond each of those doors and he looked to the mech to see him holding out a datapad. Curious, he cautiously reached out to take it.

“I’ve already read through and you will need to be able to care for yourself when I’m not around.” When Jazz didn’t respond for studying the text on the datapad, Prowl spoke again. “You can read, yes?”

Jazz looked up again to meet his glance and nodded. Those subtle signs of relief appeared again momentarily before vanishing as if they never were.

“In that case I’ll leave you to that while I attend to a few tasks. I’ll be back shortly. You may explore my apartment while I’m gone but do not touch anything you can not identify as it’s apt to be fragile. Do you understand?”

“Yes master.”

Wait. Where had that come from?

Only because he was so lost in his own shock did Jazz miss Prowl’s flinch at the statement. He barely even noticed when the other spoke, his tone sharp, as he tried to find the source of that term. Coding buzzed at him painfully, both for not completely paying attention and for poking what he shouldn’t but thankfully Prowl’s words soothed some of that.

“Do not call me that. You know my designation and you are to use that, or an appropriate addressment of rank, when speaking with or about someone.”

“Yes sir.” Fragging coding wouldn’t relent that easily but this one at least Prowl seemed more comfortable with as he didn’t feel of anger/irritation anymore. He was almost resigned as he ex-vented softly before speaking.

“I’ll be going then.”

Jazz had barely nodded (not talking seemed a smarter course of action) before the black and white was out the door again, leaving him all alone. Jazz glanced at the datapad he still held before deciding to take advantage of the permission to look around. Maybe he could even find out why he was here at all, since no one had explained it to him yet.

~

There hadn’t been much to look through; a berth room, wash racks and an Energon preparation room. Everything was modest and functional but that told as little about their owner as the lack of decorations anywhere. So he still knew nothing.

More than mildly annoyed, Jazz had claimed one end of the couch, curling up in the corner with the datapad given to him and begun to read simply for having nothing else to do. It took some guesswork and trial and error to figure out exactly how the item worked but the challenge was a nice distraction from his mood and soon enough he’d let his annoyance slip away as he processed the new information the item held. Not only was there plenty of information given in the text itself, there were also links inserted that lead to a massive collection of information (collective Cybertronian data network) to offer context or further elaborate on complex points or those only mentioned in passing. It was fascinating if only for the access to further information, even if there was only so much he could access through the datapad, and he was so engrossed that he missed Prowl’s return.

He only noticed the other mech was back when he stood above him and spoke. “You’re quite far along in there. Did you need anything explained?”

Jazz startled slightly, dropping the datapad as he looked up in surprise. Prowl caught it before it could fall off the couch and held it out to Jazz again, who took it back after a few nanokliks.

Silence hung between them for a short time until Jazz cautiously spoke. That coding was still there, humming angrily in the background but not yet buzzing. “Am I permitted to ask a question?"

If Prowl was surprised he didn’t show it. “Go ahead.”

“This," Jazz indicated the datapad, "says I was created for interfacing. Is that right?"

"That is one common use for your kind."

"My kind?" Jazz perked up faintly. This could be his chance to learn what point his existence served.

“Yes,” Prowl answered. “Vector Sigma spawned creations serve a variety of purposes; ranging from the most processor numbing of tasks to those that require no processor at all. Often times interfacing is included in the set of capabilities even when not the purpose because the bot placing the order wishes it so. It is a strange system but it does keep the numbers of many violent crimes down proportionally compared to the cities where access to the Vector Sigma is limited or nonexistent.”

“And those dolls all belong to others?” Jazz asked his question pulling a term from the text to show he really had read it.

“That’s correct.”

“But why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do they want them?”

“Various reasons, and I don’t profess to understand a majority of them, but there is a reason interfacing protocols come almost standard.”

Jazz was silent and Prowl waited to let him process what he could. When finally Jazz spoke again though, it somehow wasn’t anything he had expected. “So I’m yours then?”

A surprised flutter of sensor panels came before the simple ‘yes’ and Jazz's coding hummed happily at that answer.

“What were your reasons?”

“Nothing more special than the typical request, although my guide was rather insistent that I needed a friend.”

Jazz went quiet once more to process that answer.

A few kliks had passed when Jazz asked another question. “Was that something you desired?”

“Was what?” Prowl’s response was disjointed as he attempted to make sense of the question. The answer turned out to be surprisingly more simple than he was trying to make it.

“Interfacing me?"

When Prowl didn’t answer, Jazz added, “it is part of my purpose, yes? So it would be serving my function to do so, yes?”

“Well yes, but we can’t…”

“Why not?” Jazz pressed. “My sensors indicate you're interested enough and it is what I'm here for."

His coding was conflicted; it was clear his owner wanted -needed- this but he hadn’t actually given permission yet. So Jazz took advantage of the chance to learn more and reached out to stroke the nearer sensor panel when Prowl still didn't reply.

The response was nearly instantaneous and Jazz found himself pulled up to his pedes and into an intense and needy kiss. It was new and different and set off so many new alerts in his processor he wasn't sure he actually liked it. Then again, there was so much data to sift through that he only barely noticed when Prowl released him until he had spoken.

"Berthroom, now. It'll be more comfortable."

Jazz complied without question, following because it was easier while sorting through the countless new protocols requesting permission and pinging him new information. When he noticed he'd stopped moving it was to find himself seated on the edge of the berth but rather than more of the contact he was craving, Prowl was now pacing, muttering to himself.

"Prowl?"

That drew the Praxian's attention to him. "We can't do this."

"Why not?" There was a different buzz hanging around his systems now and it most certainly did not like the idea of not continuing.

Prowl was quiet, as if debating his answer, before he replied. "I haven't done this in a long time..."

A quick cross reference of meaning and was that all?

"And I never have." It was truth and hopefully reassuring. "So I have no frame of reference to compare you against." Prowl did pause and Jazz hoped that was a sign of success as he added more, reaching an arm out in offering. "We can learn together?"

That decided the other quickly enough and Jazz found himself pulled into another intense kiss. This time he could track the sensations it sparked, the slow burn of desire buzzing through his lines, and decided it was odd but definitely something he could come to thoroughly enjoy.

When they parted Jazz found himself laying back on the berth with Prowl perched above him, running even hotter than before. Whether his own or from the coding, it didn't matter where the words came from as long as they kept this going. "What do you want from me?"

"Your valve." The request was accompanied by a touch to the cover of said part and Jazz was grateful when the release command pulled itself up as he lost focus for a few nanokliks. "Open for me."

A pleased, and very pleasing, engine rumble was the response to his compliance and Jazz's own charge increased; both thanks to the new sensations and because of the coding where it sat happy in the back of his mind. And then he lost the ability to track anything going on in his processor as Prowl slid a digit inside him. The intrusion was odd and not quite unexpected, but he was already slick and even as Prowl slipped a second digit inside it was already starting to feel good; the massive influx of messages giving way to his frame's instinct.

Jazz couldn't help the soft whine that escaped him when Prowl withdrew. The stimulation hadn't been enough but it had been at least something and to be completely empty now made him ache. Thankfully, before he had to find words to ask -beg - _plead_ \- for something more Prowl was already fixing the problem. Moving only far enough to find a better position, the Praxian carefully pushed his spike in until he was fully sheathed within the other.

What started as a gasp at the somehow unanticipated action soon morphed into a low moan as Jazz was so completely filled. It felt right. It felt amazing. It felt perfect. And then Prowl began to move and somehow it got even better. They only lasted a few rounds of in and out before overload claimed each of them. One for never feeling it before and the other for so long long spent in neglect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to go up last Sunday but then my other half decided we needed to make a trek 2 1/2 hours away to question my mom about the new jobs she's helping us get, a trip which took almost 5 hours because we stopped in a town an hour away so she could look for some vinyl and instead we ended up finding engagement rings in a jewelry store we "cut through to save time" (though I think she was planning it all along). Then we stayed with my mom overnight to check out potential housing Monday and might have stayed another night except I had work Tuesday morning. Then Tuesday afternoon she stopped by my job to invite me to a Lindsey Sterling concert, which turned out to be in a nightclub back close-ish to where my mom lives (so another 2 hours each direction) and then I had work at 6am Wednesday. Wednesday night/Thursday early morning we then ended up hanging out to do testing for the application process for the new jobs and then went out to eat and again Thursday morning I had work at 6am but finally Thursday night I got the chance to catch up on some sleep and try to get back to finishing this up. And naturally it was right before the 'facing too...


	3. Day 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I sat down to write a contemplative chapter and then my characters decided to surprise me. And themselves... So have a bit of contemplation in the midst of more porn. Oops.

Jazz onlined slowly and only because he was looking for it did he find the prompt that held his newly modified priority tree.

_Loyalty to owner [Prowl]_

_Listen to and acknowledge all orders given by owner [Prowl]_

_**Owner [Prowl] specified request: Address only with designation or rank title** _

_Protect and care for owner [Prowl]_

_Meet all needs of owner [Prowl]_

_- Addendum: use of coercion and/or manipulation to meet owner [Prowl]'s needs temporarily allowed_

_**Owner [Prowl] specified request: Be able to care for self** _

_**Owner [Prowl] allotted permission: Freedom of movement and exploration within owner [Prowl]'s home** _

_**- Addendum: Restricted from touching unknown objects** _

It made enough sense to him so Jazz onlined his optics and sat up. He was currently alone in the berthroom and judging by the lack of warmth beside him, he had been for a long time. Quickly he stood and made his way to the doorway. The living area was empty too and he frowned as he closed the door behind him. How could he serve Prowl if the mech wasn't even around.

Soft sounds in another room drew his attention and so Jazz went to investigate. And there he found the very mech he was looking for, searching in a floor level cabinet for something. A cube of Energon sat on the counter situated in the middle of the room. Walking over, Jazz didn't even think about it as he offered his help.

"Do you want me to get that for you?"

Prowl legitimately twitched. And then he withdrew his helm from the cabinet to look at Jazz. "You're online."

It was both a statement and a question and Jazz nodded in case he did need to answer. Then he repeated his question.

"No," Prowl answered. "You wouldn't know what I was looking for and I've got it anyway."

Standing, he offered the canister to Jazz for examination as he turned to open a different cabinet. Jazz took the item and looked it over but he could make no sense of it in the few nanokliks he had before Prowl drew his attention again. The canister was exchanged for a glowing cube of Energon, which Jazz just stared at as Prowl took to mixing whatever the container held into his own cube.

"What's wrong?" Prowl finally asked after taking a sip when Jazz still hadn't done anything.

"The instruction manual says the appropriate ration is half a cube, sir." The last slipped in without him even noticing, and so he didn't notice that it was what caused an annoyed flick of the Praxian's sensor wings.

"Half a cube per orn," Prowl corrected. "As I don't recall you refueling yesterday and I have no idea what level your fuel tanks were at when you onlined, you get a full cube. If you can't finish it then we'll know for next time. We did burn a fair amount of energy last night and I will not have you offlining needlessly due to an arbitrary guideline. Now drink."

"Yes sir."

They consumed their Energon in silence. Jazz was too busy with the new experience to even notice Prowl's sweeping glance examining him the entire time. Only when they were done, and Jazz had managed to not quite empty his cube, did either speak.

"Next lesson." Prowl's tone was still steady as he collected both cubes to stick in a waste disposal unit. "I am not fond of messes so you will keep yourself clean to the best of your capability. Including making yourself presentable at first opportunity after a session of interfacing."

At that, he waved a servo in the appropriate general direction and only then, looking down, did Jazz notice the mess still on his plating. Embarrassment was not a concept he knew so he didn't feel it, only a shame at not being what Prowl wanted. Before he could offer an apology though, Prowl spoke once more.

"Come on then. I'll show you where and how to clean up."

Jazz was quick to follow Prowl out of the room and into the washracks. Even so, Prowl was already running the overhead spray at the far end of the room when he entered. He watched as Prowl occasionally reached in under the spray and then adjusted the dial, realizing belatedly that Prowl was testing the temperature.

When Prowl found a temperature he seemed to like, he stepped under the spray and gestured for Jazz to join him. He did so without hesitation. His own reaction was unanticipated as the heated liquid hit his plating, squirming and pressing against Prowl as he adjusted to the temperature.

"Jazz?" Prowl asked, a note of genuine concern in his tone.

"It's different," he tried to explain as he was able to form words again. "I didn't expect it and it's kinda weird but I think I like it."

That answer got a nod in response. "I rather enjoy the heat myself, though this is nowhere near as high as I like it."

Jazz gave a nod of his own before flinching slightly as Prowl reached behind him for something. The heat was nice now that he'd adjusted, but he didn't think he wanted it to be set any higher right now. His fears were unjustified when he suddenly felt something soft press against his shoulder. A glance revealed it to be a cloth of some sort, just before Prowl showed him a bottle of cleanser. It took a moment but then Jazz understood.

Attentively watching at first, eventually he relaxed under the gentle, sweeping strokes Prowl was using to demonstrate how best to clean plating. Starting at his shoulders and working slowly, methodically, downwards, the steady and progressive attention to his frame was slowly making his internal temperature creep higher. It wasn't until Prowl reached his interface panel and it snapped open unbidden that he understood the sensation to be arousal.

"Close up."

The command only barely made it into his processor, but his frame responded even as he wished for more. It was a veritable torture after that as Prowl continued his slow pacing to wipe first his inner thighs, then outer and then to travel lower still until his legs were completely cleaned. And then Prowl wasn't touching him anymore at all and Jazz couldn't help the slight whimper that escaped, too fast even for the coding to prevent.

It almost felt like he would melt by the time Prowl's servos returned, one of them on his hip and the other playing digits along the oh so sensitive seam of his panel. The next command was one he couldn't have resisted if he had tried.

"Now you can open this."

Even under the spray rushing over them, the click of his panel opening again was audible. Jazz didn't really know what to do now though, so he simply stood there waiting. It seemed like an eternity before Prowl did anything and when he did it wasn't to play with his valve again, already bared and dripping because that had been very enjoyable the previous night, but rather to trail his digits up to and along the housing for the companion piece. Which Jazz only now knew existed as new messages turned up explaining and asking for permissions.

"Well then. Let's see what this part looks like," Prowl said and Jazz obligingly accepted the release command prompt. And then his focus was gone as the highly sensitive component hit the heated air as it was exposed for the first time ever.

"...like this," was all Jazz heard as he regained his focus. Just long enough to lose it again as something hot and wet and amazing encircled the tip of his spike, and then began to take more of him in. It was an intense sensation and he was vaguely aware in the recesses of his processor that movement was happening, but there was too much for him to actually focus until the wash of energy crashed over him, causing a short whiteout.

Coming to, his first notice was that Prowl was still kneeling in front of him. Then that Prowl's field was radiating content and smugness. He didn't understand either, nor their causes, but he could recognize the feelings. Before he got to say anything, Prowl noticed he was online again.

"Finally back?" The question had an underlying innocence to it that might have made a normal mech concerned, or at least curious, but Jazz was too new to feel either. 

"Turn around. I'm not done yet."

Doing as he was told, Jazz turned and stood still to allow Prowl to do as he wished. Too late he noticed that Prowl was using an even slower pace and being far more particular as he moved down Jazz's back. It was just as much a torture as Prowl had put him through cleaning his legs and he only barely kept from moving. Soft whimpers did fall from his vocalizer, but with Prowl behind him he didn't know how they were being received.

Finally, _finally_ , Prowl seemed to be done and Jazz was adamant in his own mind that his processor must be frying from the heat of his internals. He was only barely aware of Prowl shutting off the spray head, which suddenly didn't feel nearly as hot as it had before, and of his own voice asking, "shouldn't I help you clean up as well?"

"I did so before you awoke. Come along."

And the Prowl was leaving the wash racks and Jazz had to follow. He was lead back to the berthroom and Prowl instructed him to lay down. He protested only because it would leave cleanser all over and Prowl had to point out that his own internal heat had already dried his frame. There was instant compliance after that.

Expecting much the same as the night before, Jazz was unprepared when Prowl positioned himself differently. His attempt to ask any questions was thwarted even as he began speaking.

"This technique requires practice to gain skill and this way I'll retain most of the control. This is also a better method for my frametype until you are more skilled."

Jazz had barely nodded when Prowl began to sink down on his spike, and then he was lost in the bliss of being inside not just any valve but Prowl's.

~

In retrospect, Prowl could admit, if only to himself, that he'd really had no idea what he was getting himself into when he'd made the commission. But even if he had had any idea, it surely wasn't what Jazz turned out to be. There were times when he caught himself forgetting Jazz wasn't actually real because he acted so lifelike. It might have been funny, if he was inclined to care for humor, but it was also annoying. Yet it kept happening when the situation was right.

Like earlier in the orn, when he'd taken Jazz to show how to properly clean himself. It had started innocently enough; a thorough wipe down because really he wasn't that dirty. But it quickly became more.

He had been informed about the intuitive field tech; mimicking a real bot's field with a predictive algorithm based on previous reactions, so that shouldn't have come as a surprise. And yet, when he had felt the artificial mimicry of desire it set off his own arousal in return.

Jazz gave no hesitation at the slightest provocation but that wasn't what he wanted right then. Instead, he gave the order for Jazz to hide his equipment again and continued on his way. In a way it was an experiment, to see if he could push any programming limits, but also because he enjoyed teasing a partner to make them mindless with pleasure.

When he decided Jazz had suffered enough for now, he had returned to his interface array and allowed Jazz to reopen it. The immediate response to his words felt amazing. Not even lost in the moment had some of his partners in the past been so compliant.

Apparently Jazz already knew what felt good because his valve was ready and waiting. So Prowl decided to ignore it for now and slowly ran his digits up to the spike housing. Pleasure was pleasure and he got just as much from commanding the situation as the acts themselves.

"Well then," Prowl commented. "Let's see what this part looks like." Jazz responded immediately once again and accepted the release on his spike. The finely crafted piece of hardware drew a pleasant rumble from the Praxian's engine. That was sure to feel amazing inside him and he would have to find out soon. But for right then he had a different plan.

Only belatedly did he notice Jazz's mild daze and it sparked amusement. "So sensitive... You'll really like this." And then he was taking Jazz down his intakes. It took only a few nanokliks and a couple swirls of his glossa before overload hit and he easily swallowed the released transfluid. The thought occurred that it even tasted like a real bot's would but he was more focused on the minute sensations he had caused in Jazz as he patiently waited for him to online again.

When he had it was time to tease him back to a ready state again. Under the honest excuse of not being finished, Prowl set about building back up Jazz's charge even as his own hummed through his circuits. Soon enough he was done and Jazz was barely coherent, if his field was any sort of indication.

He led them into the berth room then. It was the most logical choice for their next endeavor after all.

He hadn't expected even the hint of resistance Jazz gave, but the logic to it was so unexpected that he couldn't be annoyed. That he'd had to explain the specifications behind their next activity was no surprise, nor was Jazz's simple nod. Other than how strange silence felt coming from him, but that would be an issue to address later as Prowl was planning to draw plenty of sounds from the other now.

That it had been an extremely long time was the only reason he didn't immediately impale himself upon Jazz's spike, requiring rather that he work at a much slower pace to readjust. Instead of the speed of their last joining, this time he needed to move slowly, inching his way down before pulling up until he was almost entirely empty and then going down just a little farther. By the time he had Jazz fully sheathed, he was venting heavily and both their fans were running at nearly max speed.

Pausing for a klik, Prowl stopped to enjoy both the sensation of being filled and the sight beneath him. It was early yet but Jazz was already blissed out and it made for a fine look. And then, as if thinking too hard about him summoned Jazz's attention back, the mech whimpered and tried to thrust his hips. The action sent a jolt of pleasure through the Praxian and he gasped softly.

Oh, that just wouldn't do... Taking back the initiative, Prowl began to slowly rise off of Jazz, only to take him back inside in a single fast motion. That garnered a low moan from Jazz which Prowl had to hold back vocalizing his own enjoyment to hear. After that, he'd set a steady and moderately fast pace to drive them both to the much desired overload.

Yes, Prowl thought, considering, as he looked down at the frame curled against his own. The next couple rounds of interfacing had been to instruct Jazz on how to properly and best use his spike, and after a fourth overload his systems had required recharge. It was certainly hard at times to recall that Jazz wasn't real, but there were other times, such as now, where he acted so strange or even sparkling-like that there was no denying he wasn't actually a mech. Still, however Jazz may act, he was still his and Prowl was careful with his possessions.

Jazz stirred then, tilting his helm up to look at him sleepily. Prowl offered a hint of a smile at the unexpectedly cute expression as he spoke. "Recharge well, my pet?"

"Pet?" Jazz asked, inquiring tone for a word he likely didn't know.

" _My_ pet," Prowl specified. "It means you are mine and that you matter to me." He claimed a quick kiss before finishing with, "is that acceptable to you?"

"Yes." The answer came with zero hesitation. "I am yours forever or as long as you want me."

"Good answer," Prowl responded and was adamant that he felt a momentary flash in Jazz's field of something resembling pride underneath the sheer joy. It had to be his imagination though, as that wasn't possible.

**Author's Note:**

> So, fun story. I was working on the preliminary parts of the first chapter of this fic the other day (3-6-14) when my girlfriend invited me over to visit. When I got there one of the first things she mentions is how "you can buy drones now" and that she was getting one. I literally just lost it (after making her explain it again in more detail because really....) since I was still thinking along the lines of this. Naturally I got stuck explaining this all to her but at least our conversations are never boring. *laughs*


End file.
